Aftermath
by witchesandwolves
Summary: Cordelia, now the Supreme of the Coven, is struggling to cope with the death of Misty Day. A Foxxay story.
1. Chapter 1

The rain fell heavily on the roof of the Academy. It was the middle of the night and the students were all in bed. The steady beat and thrum of the rainstorm was the only sound headmistress Cordelia Foxx could hear. She lay in her bed in her nightgown on top of her white sheets staring at the ceiling. Her honey blonde hair flowed over her pillow. Her hands were clasped on her chest. She lay quite still, her chest rising and falling with her breath but otherwise unmoving. Her bedroom was spacious and ornate, filled with furnishings only fit for a Supreme, ruler of her coven. Her bed was large and luxurious, the centrepiece of the room. Sometimes the sheer size of it made her lonely.

Tonight, as they did every night when she lay in bed, her thoughts turned to Misty. She carefully unwrapped her pain layer by layer. It was a package she carried hidden throughout the day, only to take out and examine each night like a terrible treasure. During the day it was easy to forget. The noise and the constant activity of the school kept her mind busy. It lifted the oppressive weight of the truth for awhile. She was doing important work. What she had always wanted to do. Helping young women reach their potential. Making the coven stronger. In the days it was enough, but at night, when she was alone, it all seemed so meaningless.

For the hundredth time she ran through it all again in her mind. She thought about each of the tests , The Seven Wonders, ultimate tests for determining who the next Supreme. Four girls had taken the test when it became clear a new Supreme had been called. She had thought Misty was ready. She could feel her power growing. She could almost hear the hum of it, the pure white energy. She had been the one to encourage Misty. She had wanted her to be the next Supreme. Imagined the good she could do for the coven, for the world. It had been the worst mistake of her life. Misty had never had a chance. None of the girls had. Cordelia had always been destined to be the next Supreme herself.

Misty, the girl who could not die, had entered her own personal hell and been unable to awaken from it. Whatever she had found there had been so terrible, so hurtful to her soul, that it had become trapped there. Cordelia could not bear the thought of it. Someone so kind and caring and full of light being trapped in her own personal nightmare. Myrtle had said there was nothing she could have done. But surely –

A massive thud made her jump and sit up in her bed. Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Were they under attack? Extremists? Witchhunters? She could hear cries of dismay from downstairs. The bangs of opening doors and thuds of footsteps. She flicked on her light and hurried out into the hall. Some of the girls, bleary eyed and anxious, were emerging from their rooms. Cordelia cast her eye around for her council, Zoe and Queenie. She saw Kyle first, their butler and bodyguard, hurrying towards her, ready to hear her instructions.

"Everyone stay calm!" she said, as finally, Zoe and Queenie, appeared.

"Remain in your rooms," she said, "we are going to find out what's going on."

The three women headed down the stately grand staircase to the front door, while Kyle stayed behind to make sure the girls went back in their rooms. Delia swung open the heavy front door and stared into the night beyond.

"What the hell?" said Queenie.

It was hailing, but there was something very wrong about the hail stones. They fell to earth with a heavy thwack, but in the front porch light Cordelia could see they were the wrong size, the wrong colour. The women walked out onto the veranda and stopped at the edge of the shelter, reluctant to venture further. Thankfully, the storm seemed to be abating, with only a steady thump every thirty seconds or so.

Cordelia stepped out into the front yard. The wet grass made her bare feet cold. Despite Kyle's efforts a group of students had gathered at the door to watch in silence. Cordelia bent down and picked up the nearest hail stone. Queenie and Zoe came to join her.

"What is this?" asked Zoe, a worried frown on her face.

"I have no idea," said Cordelia.

In her hand she held not a hail stone, but a frog. It was dead, but it had been dead before it hit the ground, its belly sliced open with surgical precision. Zoe picked up another one. It was the same.

"They're all the same," said Zoe. "It's witchcraft."

"But what's causing it?" said Cordelia, "And why?"


	2. Chapter 2

The grey light of dawn broke over the Academy. It was a cold morning. A lonely figure moved on the lawn outside the mansion, a hunched shadow. It was Kyle, who did not seem to sleep much, and often awoke long before Zoe and the other girls. He was focused on his lonely task at present, picking up the frogs that lay scattered all over the lawn. Cordelia's spells kept curious tourists and journalists away from the gates, so no one saw him at his work.

Inside the mansion in the green house, Cordelia was hard at work as well. She had ushered the others to bed after their grim discovery the night before, soothing jangled nerves and offering words of reassurance. But she herself was shaken. She had known the enormity of what had passed. This was an omen, or a message of some kind she was sure, but where had it come from and who had sent it?

One of the frogs was on the bench in front of her now, cold and prone, its long legs spread out like a sea star, the ugly gash in its belly revealing the contents of its guts. She had lined her jars and vials up in a row upon her bench, concoctions and mixtures she had made for revealing truth and gaining clarity. She tried them one by one, sprinkling and pouring tiny amounts of each on top of the frog. The room began to smell strange and sickly, like flowers beginning to rot, and Cordelia was starting to get a headache from the fumes. But nothing had transpired. The frog lay motionless, covered in various shades of strange concoctions, damp and shiny from her brews. She bit her bottom lip and pushed her blonde hair behind her ears.

"Come on Cordelia, think!" she muttered.

She was the Supreme. Surely this was within her realm of understanding. For the hundredth time since she had become leader of the coven, she wished she had Myrtle by her side to guide her. She took a deep breath and exhaled. She needed to focus. What hadn't she tried?

She cast her eyes around the room. It was filled with all sorts of helpful herbs and exotic plants. A green haven tucked in the belly of the grand old mansion. Misty had loved this room best of all. Cordelia's gut tightened thinking about it. Herbs and potions lined the shelves but she knew in her heart none of them could help her. Only her power as Supreme could see her through.

Then she had an idea.

She looked down upon the frog, cold and dead and pathetic. Her hands hovered over the top of the creature. She focused on its tiny frame. She knew what she had to do.

Vitalum vitalis.

She felt a surge of energy, like blue fire, ignite in her chest and travel down her arms and out of her hands. She let out a tiny breath as the life giving force left her body and entered the frog.

The frog lay still.

Cordelia withdrew her hands and watched it warily. Had it worked?

She jumped as the frog let out a croak and leapt off the bench into the air. She made a lunge for it and her fingertips brushed its skin. Immediately she was lost in a vision.

She saw a sunny room, full of desks and chairs, a blackboard, students. A classroom. She saw unfamiliar children's faces. A teacher. Frogs! The students had frogs in front of them. Scalpels glistened in the student's hands. She felt fear. Oh, a terrible sick fear that tightened her stomach and stopped her breath. Then she saw Misty Day. Misty was crying. She was screaming out in pain.

"Misty!" Cordelia cried.

Then everything went black.


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing Cordelia was aware of when she woke was a throbbing pain in the back of her head. Why did her head hurt? She kept her eyes closed and tried to think. All at once she remembered. The frogs. The vision. She must have fallen and hit her head. That vision had been so clear. Misty had been there. She opened her eyes.

She was in her bedroom. The soft grey light meant it was early morning or late afternoon. It was warm. She was very thirsty, but something stopped her from reaching for a drink of water. She kept perfectly still. Something wasn't right in this room. There was a presence. The air was heavy with magic. She exhaled slowly, willing her fear to flow out of her with her breath. She had no reason to fear. She was the Supreme. She sat up at looked around.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, her hand flying to her mouth. Her whole body gave a jolt of surprise.

In the corner of the room, sitting on a large and rather ostentatious arm chair, was Myrtle Snow. Her beloved mentor and guide. The witch she had watched burn at the stake.

"Honestly dear," said Myrtle, "You act as if seeing a dead person were a new experience for you."

"Are you here?" asked Cordelia, "Are you real?"

"Yes and no," said Myrtle, making a dismissive gesture with her hand. "Does it matter?"

She rose and walked over to Cordelia, who was now sitting on the side of her bed. Myrtle crouched down and cradled Cordelia's face in her hands, lovingly examining her features.

"You have absolutely no idea how powerful you are, do you?" she said.

Myrtle's hands felt so warm, so real on Cordelia's cheeks. Cordelia's eyes glassed over with tears.

Myrtle smiled and rubbed a falling tear away with her thumb. She then stood to her full height.

"Come come," she said, "We don't have time for silly sentimentality."

Cordelia stood up, tucking her hair behind her ears. Myrtle had crossed over to the window and was looking out across the front yard. Cordelia joined her and her eyes widened at the scene unfolding before her.

The yard was full of frogs again. But they weren't lying still as they had the first time they had appeared. They were hopping about all over the wet morning grass. The women both smiled at the sight of poor Kyle chasing them back and forth in the morning sun. He had a shovel and was taking heavy swings at them and missing. He looked quite mad.

"My dear Cordelia, when a power as great as yours is focused, with a crushing intensity, on a single person, a single place, things tend to happen," said Myrtle." Impossible things. You've torn open a gateway, with the force of your will and your magic you've barrelled though dreams and dimensions and bludgeoned your way into hell itself."

Cordelia turned from the scene in the yard to question Myrtle, but she was gone. She touched her hand to her cheek. It was still slightly damp from her tears.

Impossible things, Myrtle had said. Like people coming back from the dead. Like people coming back from hell. Her heart started to thump harder. Her mouth felt drier than ever. Her stomach tightened and she realised she felt sick from hunger and excitement both. Could it be possible? Could she reach out with her power and drag Misty straight out of hell?

At that moment the door burst open and interrupted her reverie.

"You're awake!" said Zoe. Her face flooded with relief. "Things got weird around here while you were out of it."

"I need your help with a spell" said Cordelia. "I'm bringing Misty back."


	4. Chapter 4

The afternoon sun bore down on the Louisiana swamp without mercy. Cordelia was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. She felt it running in rivulets down her neck and back. The insects hummed and chirped. The air around her was heavy with heat. Cordelia held onto her black parasol with one hand and adjusted her sunglasses with the other. She was picking her way along a narrow overgrown path through the trees. Zoe's small form was in front of her, her oversized hat bobbing up and down as she walked. She was carrying an overshoulder bag. Cordelia hoped it had everything they needed inside. There was no turning back now.

The smell of the swamp filled Cordelia's nose and mouth. The smell of damp and death and rot. Cordelia had to trust that Zoe knew where she was going. Only she and Kyle had been to Misty's little swamp refuge before today. Cordelia had considered visiting here many times, but the thought of seeing the place where Misty had slept and eaten and lived had been too much to bear. Now there was a reason to come here. Now there was hope.

"It's just through here," Zoe said, pushing apart two branches to reveal a clearing. A small, simple home sat nestled in the middle of a sea of short green grass. Beside it was a garden. A butterfly fluttered past them. Cordelia stopped and stared. The enormity of what she was doing squeezed on her heart. Her chest tightened and she forgot to breathe.

Zoe was staring at her.

"Miss Cordelia, are you okay?" she asked.

Cordelia took a deep breath in and let it out again. She gave a brisk nod and started forward.

She was headed towards the little house but hesitated and stopped at the garden. The hanging pot plants, the herb garden and flower bed, obviously once lovingly cared for, were in the beginning stages of being taken back by the swamp. The herbs and flowers were being crowded out by weeds and the hanging plants were dry and brown from the sun.

Cordelia reached out and touched the nearest pot plant, which was hanging from a wooden beam. Green life spread from her fingertips and the stiff dead leaves curled and sprang back to life. Flowers burst open, magnificent purple and pink and white. Cordelia could smell their subtle sweetness. Zoe stood by her side and watched as the plant continued to grow.

"You still haven't explained to me how this is going to work," Zoe said. "I mean, no offence, but we don't even have a body."

"We don't need one," said Cordelia. "Misty understood that when she used her swamp mud. Magic is metaphor. Magic is limitless. That's why we're here in the midst of nature. This is where Misty drew her strength from. This is where I can be closest to her."

They turned and walked together towards the tiny shack. Zoe pushed the door and it swung open with a long groan. It was dark inside and hot. Cordelia folded her parasol and took off her glasses, setting them both down. She blinked, trying to make out her surroundings. It was so good to be out of the sun.

There were some tattered arm chairs, a bed in the corner and a little table with a record player on it. Dust motes were drifting in the ray of light from the door, disturbed by their presence. Cordelia walked over to the record player. Her brow furrowed when she saw that it was broken beyond repair. Records were stacked in a neat pile beside it. A Fleetwood Mac record, Rumours, sat on the top of the pile. The cover was torn down the middle, separating the two figures on it forever.

"Someone broke her records," said Cordelia. "She'll need new ones."

"I think that was Kyle," said Zoe, "I know he didn't mean to. But yeah, he should probably buy her an ipod or something."

As if on cue they heard a voice from the clearing.

"Zoe?"

They walked to the door and looked out. The sky had darkened in the few minutes they had been inside. The wind whipped Kyle's blonde shaggy hair about his face. He smiled when he saw Zoe. She ran out to greet him. Cordelia walked behind her. The intense heat was being chased away by a brisk wind.

On Kyle's broad shoulders he carried a fawn. Its gangly legs hung down either side of his neck. They were tied together just above the hooves. Kyle was holding the deer tight so it would not kick him. Large droplets of sweat were beaded on his brow and his shirt was saturated. The fawn looked at Cordelia from over his shoulder with one dark, fearful eye.

There was a flash of light. They looked up. Storm clouds were gathering above them. The day was quickly turning very dark. There was a distant rumble. Kyle looked questioningly at Cordelia, eyebrows raised.

"I'm ready," she said. "It's time."


	5. Chapter 5

Cordelia took off her shoes, knelt down on the earth and closed her eyes. She rubbed the sweat from her face with the palms of her hands. Let the rain come, she thought. She let out a long breath and ran her hands over the grass, digging her nails into the soft dirt. She could smell the storm. The first droplets of rain hit her face and she opened her eyes. The wind caught her blonde hair and tousled it. It tugged at her blouse. Kyle knelt down in front of her and their dark eyes met. He held the deer between them on the ground, one hand firmly pressed to its neck, one on its small body. It had given up kicking. It stared at Cordelia but she kept looking at Kyle. The wind was howling through the trees now. The rain was falling harder. It was so cold.

"Zoe," said Cordelia, "Give me the knife."

She held out her hand. Zoe was standing close by. She produced a long ornate blade from her bag. Lightning flashed and made the blade shine bright. To Cordelia it seemed to sing. It knew its purpose. Zoe placed the knife in Cordelia's hand as a loud crack of thunder sounded. Zoe jumped, but Cordelia's hand remained steady. The fawn began to kick and Kyle frowned, holding it tighter.

"Sequere lucem," said Cordelia, "venite ad me."

She plunged the knife deep into the fawn's chest. It let out a high pitched scream. The blood spurted over Cordelia's hands and arms and face.

"Now Zoe!" she said.

Zoe thrust the squirming frog she had been holding at Cordelia. Cordelia reached out and grabbed it with both bloody hands. Everything went black.

She was no longer in the clearing with Zoe and Kyle. She was in the classroom again. She immediately spotted Misty, who was crying.

"You can't make me!" she said. "I won't do it!"

She was holding a scalpel. It was poised over a frog on her desk. The teacher grabbed her hand roughly and forced her to press the scalpel down into the frog's belly, slicing it open. Cordelia narrowed her eyes and held out her hand, palm towards the teacher. Immediately he let go of Misty and the scalpel fell to the table with a clatter. Misty let out a little moan and looked at the teacher. While she watched, he picked up the scalpel she had dropped and turned the blade towards his face. With one jerky movement, he plunged the scalpel into his eye. He screamed and pulled it out, only the plunge it into his other eye. Misty stood up. Her chair fell to the ground with a bang.

"Misty!" Cordelia said, walking towards her.

Misty's head whipped around, her blonde curls flying. Her face was wet with tears, her eyes were red. She looked confused. She was looking at Cordelia, but not really seeing her. Cordelia reached out for her but Misty flinched back, putting her hands up in defence. She stepped back and stumbled over her chair, falling backwards onto the teacher, who was silently wreathing on the floor, pawing at his face. Misty scrambled away from him and felt around on the floor for the scalpel. She grasped it in her hand and stood up, pointing it at Cordelia.

"Get away!" she yelled, swiping at the air with the scalpel, "Leave me alone. I won't do it anymore. You can't make me."

Cordelia held up her hands in front of her and patted the air in a placating motion.

"Misty it's me," she said, "Don't you remember? It' s me, Cordelia."

Misty's chest was rising and falling with her heavy breaths. Her eyes darted around the room from student to student. They were busy with their school work, and didn't seem in the least bit concerned with the events unfolding around them. She looked back at Cordelia. The hand holding the scalpel was shaking.

"I don't understand," she said, her voice cracking, "I'm so confused."

Cordelia took a step forward.

"Everything is going to be all right," Cordelia said. "I promise. We make a great team, remember?"

She bent down and picked up the dead frog from the table between them, cupping it in her palms.

"Vitalum Vitalus," she whispered.

After a moment's pause, the frog let out a feeble croak and wriggled to life. Misty's hand was shaking violently now. She let the scalpel fall to the floor and stared at Cordelia with wide eyes.

"Please don't make me kill it, please, please, Miss Cordelia," she said.

Cordelia smiled.

"Come here," she said, holding the frog in one hand and using the other to beckon Misty. Misty stepped forward and slowly reached her hand out to Cordelia. Their fingers intertwined. Cordelia squeezed Misty's hand and smiled wider. Misty moved a little closer.

"I told you once that you were under the protection of my Coven," Cordelia said. "I meant it. Now you need to trust me. This room is not real. It's nothing but a dream and you are trapped here by your own magic. But I am not a dream Misty. I am real and I am here to take you home. Close your eyes and think of your home in the swamp. Can you do that?"

Misty closed her eyes and nodded.

"Imagine for me that you're back there now. Taking care of your plants. Listening to your Stevie. You are safe, you are so dearly loved. Come back. Wake up. We will go together."

Everything went black.

Cordelia woke up. She was on the ground outside Misty's house once more. She sat up and looked around frantically. It was night time now. She saw Kyle and Zoe standing in the dark, hunched together, holding torches. They looked frightened. The rain was pouring down now. Thunder boomed.

"Misty!" Cordelia screamed. "Misty!"

She crawled over to the body of the fawn on her hands and knees. Lightning made the knife buried in its chest flash brilliantly. Its fur was drenched in its blood and it had soaked into the earth around it. Cordelia began to dig with her hands into the mud and blood beneath the fawn.

Kyle and Zoe hurried forward.

"Help me!" she yelled.

All three began to dig into the earth.

"Venite ad me, venite ad me," Cordelia muttered, clawing at the earth.

Something shot out of the mud and latched onto her arm with a steely grip. It was a hand.

"Misty!" Cordelia cried. "Kyle help!"

She gripped Misty's hand tight in both of hers. Kyle plunged his hands into the earth around the hand digging like a dog, flinging dirt everywhere and exposing a length of forearm. Another hand shot out and Cordelia grabbed at it. Her hand slipped at first then she held it tight. She pulled, and all at once the earth parted and Misty tumbled out. She knocked Cordelia back into the mud and fell on top of her. All Cordelia could see were the shining whites of Misty's eyes and teeth. Her hair was a muddy wet mane that fell all around her dirty face.

The rain poured down. Cordelia laughed and reached up to wipe away the mud from Misty's face. But all she did was smear more dirt from her hand across Misty's cheek. The rain was running through her hair and saturating Cordelia with muddy water. Misty's eyes were studying Cordelia's face as if she had never seen anything like it before. She sat up suddenly and climbed off Cordelia, looking around in wonder. Her eyes settled on the dead fawn.

Cordelia followed Misty's gaze.

"I'm so sorry," she said, "We needed a sacrifice."

Misty crawled over to the deer and used both hands to pull the knife from its chest. Blood oozed out of the wound. She laid her hands over the fawn and stared into its lifeless eyes. Its head jerked and it kicked its legs. It struggled to get up, fell once, then got up again and darted into the woods. Misty watched it go. Then she looked at Kyle, Zoe and Cordelia. Her eyes were wary. Her face, now mostly clean thanks to the rain, looked strained. Her brow wrinkled, her chest rose and fell with quick breaths.

"You can't make me..." said Misty.

Cordelia hurried over to Misty, crouched down and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close. Misty began to cry, great raking sobs that made her whole body shake.

"Shhh," said Cordelia, "It's going to be alright. You're safe now. You've come home to me."


	6. Chapter 6

It had been the longest night of Cordelia's life. She had never felt so tired. At the same time she had never been more aware. Every part of her was humming with a buzzing energy. She hadn't felt this way since The Seven Wonders. A part of her that had been missing had been recovered. It felt like everything could be all right again.

She was in the back seat of her car. Zoe was driving and Kyle was in the front passenger's seat. No one spoke. The only sound was the hum of the engine and the thwack of the windscreen wipers. Cordelia had draped a blanket over Misty and had her arm around her, rubbing the blanket, trying to warm her up. Misty's head rested on Cordelia's shoulder. Her wet body was pressed against Cordelia's and Cordelia could feel her chest moving up and down with her breathing. It was a very good feeling. They were both soaked with mud and rain. Misty's wet hair was dripping. Cordelia felt Misty shiver.

"Go as fast as you can, Zoe," Cordelia said. "She's freezing."

"We all are" said Zoe.

Cordelia brushed the straggly hair out of Misty's eyes with her fingertips. She still had the fawn's blood on her hands and under her fingernails. Misty's face with still streaked with mud. Her eyes turned up towards Cordelia but she did not move. Cordelia looked into her dark eyes. They had been so full of anguish in that classroom. Now they just looked very tired. She smiled and kissed Misty on her forehead.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she said.

Misty looked up into her face for a moment longer, then she closed her eyes and nuzzled her head back into Cordelia's shoulder. She slid her arm around Cordelia's waist. The car drove on and on. The lights of New Orleans occasionally lit up Misty's blonde curls or flitted across the lily white, mud splattered skin of her upper arm. Cordelia couldn't tell if she was sleeping or not, so she stayed as still as she could for the rest of the journey home.

Finally they pulled up at the front of The Academy. Kyle hopped out and opened the door for Cordelia, who gently helped Misty out of the car. The rain had stopped and some of the warmth had returned to the night. Zoe and Kyle led the way through the large front gates up to the front door, where Queenie was waiting for them. Her eyes widened when she saw Misty and she shot a questioning look at Zoe.

"I'll explain later," said Cordelia. "You and Zoe might have to take charge around here for a little while."

She left the three of them at the front entrance and started to lead Misty up the long flight of stairs to her bedroom. She kept her arm around Misty's shoulders as they ascended the stairs. Finally they reached her bedroom. She closed the door behind them.

"We need to get you out of these wet clothes and into a warm shower," said Cordelia.

Misty was wearing the same clothes she had entered hell in, including the shawl given to her by Stevie Nicks. Cordelia lead Misty by her hand into her ensuite and then went to fetch a towel. When she returned, Misty was still standing in the same position she had left her in, a faraway look on her face. Cordelia put the towel on the vanity. She walked up to Misty and smiled.

"I'll leave you to it then shall I?" she said, and began to walk out the door.

Misty's grabbed Cordelia by the upper arm. Her face had lost its blank expression. Fear had returned to her eyes.

"Don't leave me alone!" she said. "Please Miss Cordelia."

Cordelia turned back towards Misty immediately. She cradled her face in her hands. Brushed the hair from her eyes.

"It's okay, it's okay, I'm not going anywhere," she said.

Then she smiled.

"I know what will make you feel better," she said.

Misty watched her closely as she went into her bedroom and returned with her ipod. She placed it on the dock on her vanity and scrolled though the titles.

"Here we are," she said.

A song familiar to both of them began to play.

"Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night, and wouldn't you love to love her?" sang Stevie Nicks.

Cordelia turned back to Misty and smiled.

Misty smiled back.


	7. Chapter 7

The ensuite was meticulously clean and dazzlingly white, except for the trail of muddy water the two women had left in their wake. It contained a vanity, a large mirror, a clothes hamper and a grand old bath on clawed feet, next to which Misty now stood. Cordelia crossed the room to Misty. She squeezed Misty's hand and looked into her eyes. Misty squeezed back, the ghost of a smile still on her lips. Cordelia let go of her hand and gently brushed past her. She bent down and turned on the taps to run a bath.

Cordelia let the water run over her hands. She felt it slowly heat up as it washed away the blood and mud. The only sounds were the thunder of the water on the bath and the music. Cordelia felt Misty crouch down beside her. Misty touched the fingertips of her hand to the running water. It rushed past her hand and into the drain.

"I remember a boy," she said, "I cleaned him, fed him, helped him get better."

She twirled her hand in the water. The dirt flowed from her fingers.

"I remember me and him and Stevie," she said.

She put both her hands in the water and began to rinse them clean.

Cordelia watched her, not daring to speak.

Misty's brow furrowed and she shook her head, looking at Cordelia.

"But he wasn't part of my tribe. I was looking for my tribe..."

Her words trailed away and she looked at the water again. She started to clean the mud from her arms. Cordelia pushed the plug into the plughole and poured some bubble bath mix into the water. She watched as the bubbles foamed and spread, flowing down to Misty's arms, which were now clean and pink.

"You should get in" Cordelia said. "You'll feel better."

Cordelia stood up and offered her hand to Misty. Misty took it and stood. They were now face to face. Misty took Cordelia's other hand in hers. Her eyes studied Cordelia's features. Cordelia felt like her breathing was very loud, very laboured.

"I remember you Miss Cordelia," Misty said. "I remember I was scared. I was looking for my tribe. And I found you."

Cordelia smiled.

"And now I've found you," Cordelia said.

Cordelia was very aware of how close they were. She could feel her heart beating faster. Misty's hands were warm. Her palms were slightly rough. Cordelia forced herself to let go. She slipped her long fingers underneath Misty's shawl and lifted it from her shoulders, pulling on the soft, saturated material until it was bunched in her hands.

"I'll make sure this stays safe," she told Misty. "The rest of your clothes we can throw away. Now get in the bath before you freeze."

Cordelia turned off the taps and carried the shawl over to her hamper. She threw it in. Her heart was still thumping. She stood there for a moment, her back turned to Misty, biting her lip. She took a deep breath, let it out, and forced herself to turn around.

Misty was facing away from Cordelia. She had taken her boots and her top off and they lay in a pile on the floor. Her long hair fell down her back in a cascade of dirty blonde curls. The skin of her arms shone white, in stark contrast to the dirty skin of her bare back and shoulders. She stopped getting undressed and looked over her shoulder at Cordelia. Muddy hair had flopped into her eyes again.

"What about you?" Misty asked. "Aren't you cold?"

Cordelia quickly looked away.

"I'm fine Misty," she said. "Now get in the bath. I'll fetch you some clothes. I promise I won't be far away."

Cordelia walked out of the bathroom. She left the door a little ajar for Misty's sake and walked over to her wardrobe. She opened it and stared blankly at the clothes within. She could hear water splashing. And she could hear Fleetwood Mac.

"I turned around," sang Lindsey, "And the water was closing, all around, like a glove, like the love that had finally, finally found me."

Cordelia rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. She rubbed her eyes. Then she closed the wardrobe and rested her forehead on the door. Choosing an outfit for Misty seemed like an impossible task. This was insane. She was letting her emotions get out of hand.

"Get it together Cordelia," she said.

But all she could do was think about Misty. Misty's smile, Misty's hands in the water, the touch of her skin, the dark pools that were her eyes, the way her body looked, pale skin painted with mud.

"Miss Cordelia!" Misty called. "Cordelia!"

Cordelia bolted for the bathroom door.


	8. Chapter 8

Cordelia threw open the door to the bathroom. She stopped short and stared at the scene before her. Misty was sitting in a bath full of bubbles. Her blonde hair was flat and wet against her scalp. Her nose and eyes were scrunched up into a grin. Her cheeks were pink and her face was radiant with joy.

"Did you do this?" she asked, gesturing to the room. "I was thinking about my garden back home. And then this."

All around them the room was changing. It was transforming and growing. Out of the basin a plant was sprouting, covered in purple and white flowers. As Cordelia watched, thin vines ran out of the sink, along the vanity and down to the tiled ground. A branch shot out of the plant and knocked the ipod to the floor, abruptly stopping the music.

There was a loud crack and Cordelia turned to see a small tree's branches emerging from the toilet. They reached like gnarled fingers towards the ceiling, sprouting leaves as they grew. The toilet bowl cracked and water began to leak onto the floor. It ran down the widening cracks between the tiles, which were quickly filling with grass and small pink and yellow flowers.

Misty laughed. It was a beautiful sound. Cordelia grabbed her towel and hurried over to her.

"Quickly," she said. "Let's go."

Misty grinned at her. She stood up and stepped carefully out the bath. Cordelia handed her the towel as she glanced wildly around the room, looking out for danger. Misty wrapped the towel around her body.

"What's going on?" Cordelia said.

More tiles cracked loudly. Cordelia looked over to see a rose bush had begun sprouting in the corner.

Misty laughed again. Cordelia looked back to see that the tree's branches had reached the ceiling and were scratching and bumping against it. Every bump shook flower petals from the branches. Misty held her towel up with one hand and held her other hand palm up to catch petals as they fell. They lighted on her shoulders and in her hair.

Cordelia grabbed Misty's arm.

"We have to go!" she said.

But Misty did not allow herself to be led this time. She only smiled and shook her head, raining petals down.

"Don't be afraid of your own power", Misty said. "You're like the moon, pulling at the ocean. But you can pull on anything your heart desires, can't you? How did you know I was thinking about my garden?"

Cordelia shook her head.

"I don't know," she said. "I don't know how to make this stop. The whole Academy will be destroyed."

"Relax," Misty said.

She let the petals she was holding fall to the floor and took Cordelia's hand in hers.

"Close your eyes," Misty said. "Nothing can hurt you."

Cordelia looked at Misty doubtfully. They needed to leave immediately. But Misty's face was resolute. And she wasn't about to use concilium on her. Not knowing what else to do, Cordelia closed her eyes. She could hear the room cracking and groaning. Cold water began to trickle past her feet.

"You need to relax," Misty said.

Cordelia concentrated on the warmth of Misty's hand. She thought she would never touch Misty again. But here they were. She had done the impossible. Misty was right here with her. Nothing would take her away again. No power on earth, in heaven or in hell. Misty was right. She had nothing to fear. She was the Supreme. She sighed and let her body relax.

"Now," said Misty, "It's time to tell the garden to stop growing here. I don't need your help. I'm perfectly safe now, thanks to you. I can just visit the swamps myself."

Cordelia slowly opened her eyes. Misty grinned at her.

Cordelia looked around. The room was completely overgrown. The floor was a mess of flower petals and water. The walls were covered in hanging vines. Plants were sprouting out of cracks everywhere. A full grown tree stood behind Misty. But thankfully it seemed they had all stopped growing. Everything was still.

"You see?" Misty said. "You're amazing!"

Misty held her hand tighter and pulled her closer, laughing. Her eyes shone.

"Misty I..." Cordelia said.

Three loud bangs sounded on the bedroom door. Cordelia jumped and they both looked towards the sound. Cordelia sighed, let go off Misty's hand and went to the door.

It was Kyle. He looked nervous.

"So sorry to disturb you," he said. "But there's a crack in the ceiling downstairs. It's leaking water everywhere."

"Kyle," Cordelia said. "You live in a house full of witches. I'm sure they are more than capable of dealing with this problem."

Kyle opened and closed his mouth but did not speak.

"Goodnight Kyle," she said.

Cordelia gently closed the door. She turned around to see that Misty had changed into one of her nightgowns. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, her long legs dangling, watching Cordelia closely while she towel dried her hair.

Apparently clothes weren't that hard to find after all.

Cordelia sneezed. Misty's brow furrowed.

"You should take a bath," Misty said.

A bath did sound fantastic. But the ensuite was probably out of the question.

"You'll be okay?" Cordelia asked.

"Yeah", said Misty.

She shrugged.

"I would listen to some music," she said. "But you broke Stevie."


End file.
